I haven't written anything over the last few days. I've been too busy wallowing in a combination of self-loathing, self-pity and feeling sick.

But, despite going to bed tonight at 11pm, it's now 1am (despite what the time linked to this entry actually says... blogger doesn't seem to understand that we're not all American) and I'm still awake. My attempts at sleep even prevented me from taking advantage of Ryanair's 52p sale, which apparently finished at midnight.

So, I thought I'd share some of my, erm, thoughts (I really must invest in a thesaurus. I wrote something somewhere else the other day and was reduced to using the word "though" about 5 times in one paragraph).

* In the TV advert for "Mr Bean's Amazing A to Z" the animated Mr Bean has a goatie-beardy type thing, not dissimilar to the one sported by Homer Simpson. The animator has used exactly the same colour shading to do Mr Bean's eyelids, which just makes him look like he's sporting (again, need the thesaurus) facial hair in very strange places.

* On the north most bit of the M25, as you're heading into Essex (why?) there is a McDonald's billboard kind enough to remind the driving public of laws that have recently taken effect. It informs people bound for the M11 (which isn't so bad, it might go through Essex, but at least you end up in Cambridge):

McDonalds - next exit

Remember: Don't phone and drive

As if to imply that the prospect of a McDonalds within five minutes is so exciting that you might have to phone someone and tell them. Again with the "why?"

* Everyday on my way home from work I sit at a bus stop opposite 'Secrets International Table Dancing'. I'm often tempted to go in there and check it out, because I'm intrigued. I have these visions of a Scottish table modelling a rather attractive tartan tablecloth, attempting a Highland Fling, while the Swedish tables keep falling over because they've got one leg not screwed on properly where bracket P was missing and therefore wasn't correctly inserted into screw hole V (I may be in my mid-twenties, but I still snigger every time I read the phrase "screw hole" on flat-packed furniture instructions. Probably goes a long way to explaining why I'm still single)